


Love Set (A Collection)

by wafflesandkruge



Category: Original Work
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, High School, Rivals to Lovers, Snippets, full story? never heard of her, is that a threat we'll see, pls don't let this die i will be sad and never write again, varsity level sports and shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21644995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesandkruge/pseuds/wafflesandkruge
Summary: Clara de Luca and Daniel Westmoore are the captains of Blueridge High School's varsity tennis teams. They've been rivals ever since Daniel beat Clara during a scrimmage in middle school PE, but this year, Clara is determined once and for all to lead her team to a championship before he can and rub her victory in his stupidly handsome face.(This is a collection of snippets set in the story, not an actual continuous story)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing little snippets of the story and this part was posted as part of my advent calendar challenge of tumblr, so I though I might as well post it here :)

“You’re free to back out whenever you want, Dan-Dan,” Clara retorted, wrapping her arms around herself. The night was chilly and the low-cut top of her Wonder Woman costume wasn’t helping. Meanwhile, Daniel looked nice and toasty in his heavy pilot’s jacket that was part of his Steve Trevor costume. They hadn’t meant to match– Clara had just pulled the costume from somewhere in the back of her closet and when she’d shown up at school, Daniel had already been in his costume. Their accidental matching had their friends snickering, which was ridiculous. Sure, it was a couples’ costume, but she and Daniel comfortably hated each other. Hence, the haunted house challenge.

“You wish, Clare-bear. Here,” he said as he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it over her head. The soft wool smelled like him. “Just looking at you is making me cold.”

“Thanks,” she muttered as she pulled it on. The jacket was still warm from his body heat and she gave a little sigh of contentment. Daniel raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t get too comfortable. We still have to conquer the haunted house.”

“Bring it. First to scream gets their racket spray painted by the other. I think you’d look rather manly with a hot pink racket, no?”

He sighed. “Always so confident. Pride goeth before the fall.”

Clara didn’t bother responding and instead grabbed his elbow and started pulling him towards the house.

* * *

Daniel let out a bark of laughter as they sprinted down the street. “Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of ghosts, Clare-bear?”

“I’m not!” she insisted, but her ear-splitting scream was still fresh in his memory. He pulled her to a stop as they got to his car. Her face was paler than usual, with two spots of color high on her cheeks from exertion. He’d never wanted to kiss her more. With a jolt, he realized she still hadn’t let go of his hand from when she’d first grabbed it inside the haunted house. She glanced down and seemed to realize it at the same time. Her blush deepened and she yanked her hand away. Daniel leaned back onto his car with his arms crossed and smirked. 

“So, Clare-bear, what do you think would be more embarrassing? Neon orange frame with a bright red grip? Or maybe a nice lime green with artful patches of mustard yellow?”

“Don’t call me that. And you only get to spray my spare racket,” she muttered as she stalked around the car to the passenger side. 

“Come on!” he protested as he climbed into the driver’s seat. Clara looked rather sullen as she buckled up and tuned the radio to some channel playing halloween music. “I have excellent artistic taste.”

“You literally failed Art 1 freshman year.”

“Mr. Lyons didn’t appreciate abstract art.”

He started up the car, and soon they were on their way back to Clara’s house. The streets were awash with light as trick-or-treaters flooded sidewalks and Halloween decorations flashed on people’s lawns. He was forced to drive at a crawl or risk running some poor kid over. But he didn’t mind, not if it meant spending more time with Clara. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story/snippet written for my advent calendar a while ago! (There is plot to this I swear)

“Hey!”

Clara yanked on Daniel’s elbow as they passed by one of those midway booths. One of the prizes had caught her eye- a bright blue sloth plushie that under any circumstances she would have thought was too garish and childish, but in her elation and sugar high, seemed the perfect ending to their evening together. 

“You want that... _ thing _ ?” he asked skeptically. 

“It’s cute!” she retorted. “And conveniently in our school colors.”

He sighed and let Clara drag him closer to the booth. It was one of those milk bottle games where you had to knock over the tower completely off the stand with a baseball. The attendant eyed them with disinterest. 

“How about we make this a competition?” Daniel asked with a smirk as he put down a couple bills for the attendant. They were instantly swept up and replaced with a small basket of baseballs. Daniel took one and tossed it up and down. “We’ll see who can win the most.”

“Done,” Clara replied without a second thought. She grabbed one of the baseballs from his basket and weighed it in her hand while scrutinizing the target. Then she wound up and threw as hard as she could. All three milk bottles toppled off the base. She turned to him with a triumphant smile. 

“Eat my dust, Dan-Dan.”

“You think you’re so cute, Clare-bear,” he muttered as he flicked her nose lightly. “I’m going to destroy you.”

“Do your worst.” 

He pulled his arm back, then proceeded to have his milk bottles topple in a loud clatter. 

* * *

They ended up with two sloths. Clara’s blue one was wrapped wound her neck while Daniel had chosen a purple one that was now perched on his head like a hat. He had to admit, she looked pretty cute with that monstrosity. He considered sneaking a picture of her, but if she caught him, she’d never let him hear the end of it.

She noticed his silence and elbowed him. “What? Is that sloth choking you?”

“No. Uh… do you want to take a photo?”

She frowned, a little crease forming between her brows. “For what?” 

“For… just give me your phone.” Thankfully, she handed it over without protest and he quickly snapped a selfie of him trying to imitate his sloth’s dopey expression. He set it as her lock screen, replacing a picture of the sunrise from their tennis team retreat. 

“Ewwww, thank you for encouraging me to spend less time on my phone. Hand me yours.” He did. She spent a couple seconds turning and trying to find a good angle, but once she did, she hugged her sloth to her face and gave one of those wide smiles that Daniel loved. Scrunched up nose, rosy cheeks and all. She set it as his lock screen as well.

“Happy?” she asked. He nodded and slung an arm over her shoulder as they continued walking back to the car. As usual, they fit perfectly together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's uhhhhh a bit of the storyline with plot?

Clara’s eyes tracked the bright green ball as it arched gracefully in the sky. Like hell she was going to give Daniel the first set, not when she still had a chance of catching up. She ran for the backcourt, racket outstretched. She was so close, just a few more feet- Daniel was yelling in the background, there was the familiar clatter of a racket hitting the ground, but she didn’t care as long as she could-

She collided hard with something and she went down. Her ankle twisted painfully. For a moment her head spun with its sudden change of orientation before she slammed into the ground. Black spots swam before her eyes as pain flared up in her sides, elbows, knees. Her head throbbed like there was someone with a jackhammer going at it from the inside. She didn’t have the strength to move, so she lay there against the warm ground and wished for a god to take pity on her and smite her before Daniel could gloat. No such luck.

He was at her side a heartbeat later. Even without opening her eyes, she knew it was him by the feeling of his hands on her wrist taking her pulse. 

“Jesus, de Luca, why the  _ fuck _ yould you do something so dumb? What hurts? Actually what hurts the most? Shit, you’re bleeding- I have a first aid kit in my bag, let me go-”

Each syllable of his intensified Clara’s headache. “Shut up,” she groaned. “Just take me to the nurse.”

She could feel the skepticism rolling off of him in waves. “Can you even sit up?”

She took that as a challenge. She ignored the throbbing in her elbows and pushed herself up. Then immediately regretted it as her head spun and her vision went black for a solid second. Daniel’s hand was on her back, rubbing soothing circles. She decided to ignore it as she wasn’t in the best shape to fight him.

“Good? I think you twisted your ankle so you’re going to have to use me as a crutch the whole way back.”

She couldn’t think of a good one-liner for that so she nodded meekly. Then he continued, shooting her a grin. “Actually… maybe it’d be better if I just carried you. We don’t want to mess up your legs any more than you already did.”

“Asshole,” she muttered, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. She knew he was right. Figuring out how to safely get her on his back was another matter though, because she adamantly refused to be carried in his arms like some maiden princess he’d rescued from a horrible fate.

“Come on,” Daniel coaxed as he put her arm around his shoulder. He stood up slowly, letting her adjust until she was standing on her relatively good leg. Then he hooked his arms behind her knees and lifted her. Clara wanted to throw up so badly from the up and down motion as he started taking them back to school, so she shamelessly wrapped her arms around him tighter and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He was warm and still smelled faintly of his stupidly expensive cologne despite having just played half a set with her. 

“Don’t throw up on my shoes.”

“I’ll try my best.” She tried not to think about the strong muscles she could feel pressed up against her or the way his curling hair tickled her cheek. He was  _ Daniel Westmoore _ , for god’s sake. Cute, but strictly off-limits. Cute? Wait, she thought he was cute?

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please let me know if you want to see more I have so much written and I love these two idiots


End file.
